Aftershocks
by ForFanfic
Summary: Neither Gill Murray nor Julie Dodson are in quite their right minds after Gill's harrowing ordeal. Gratuitous smut inevitable.
1. Chapter 1

The gin lost its appeal after Janet and Rachel had left. Getting rat-arsed in rebellion seemed less empowering somehow when you remembered Rachel Bailey. The kid was far better at it than Gill was anyway. There was style to her levels of drama. Besides, Sammy didn't need both of his parents passed out senseless before the night was out, did he? That'd be a great example for Orla of what a copper's life could be.

Gill found she was quite steady on her legs as she made her way downstairs. The party was in full swing now. Orla and Sammy were surrounded by well-wishers, and she stopped a moment to watch them fondly. They were mental getting engaged at their age, but who the hell was to say what sane really was, actually? They were young, and full of life, and life was a strange and fucked up thing. Let them grab happiness where they saw it.

She had a sudden flash of blue eyes, framed in a rear-view mirror. The saddest blue eyes she'd ever seen in her life maybe, and with everything she'd seen over the years that was saying something. Suddenly Gill was certain she didn't want to be among a gang of teenage revellers. She needed something else. She needed other coppers, she thought. Who'd look at her, and nod, and know. She didn't want to talk or anything, but maybe to share another drink or even bum a fag.

With one last look at Sammy she turned and made her way to the kitchen where the crowd was thinner, older, and on average about a hundred times more cynical. Janet and Rachel had already left, but Mitch was there looking solidly out of place against her sideboard. Gill was about to approach him when she realised that standing next to Mitch, bending his ear, was a sloshed Dave Murray. There was a plea for rescue in Mitch's eyes as they locked onto hers from across the room, but Gill ignored it. Tonight of all nights life was too short to deal with her ex husband and his bullshit.

Instead she made a beeline for the open back door and the cool night air outside. Should have invited Pete Readyough, she thought, rubbing the bruise at the side of her neck. Least then she wouldn't be the saddest case here. Of course, Julie would say -

Gill stopped in her tracks.

Julie wasn't here. How had she not noticed until now? In fact she'd not seen Julie since it happened. She'd spoken to her on the phone while she was at the hospital and Jules was still barking orders at everybody from the RED centre, but that had been hours ago. Julie hadn't come tonight at all. A few seconds of stupefaction at her own failure to think of her best friend sooner was quickly replaced by an absolute certainty that she was the person Gill most needed to see right now. She wanted Julie to call her a stupid mare, and tease her about the party, and give her a hug, and be solidly, reliably, strong and tall and _present_. But Julie wasn't at the party, and Gill was in no fit state to drive. Well, it looked like Mitch was going to get his escape route after all.

She didn't want to worry Sammy, but she wasn't about to disappear without an explanation to anyone either. So she found Ben - whom she'd been thinking of as Sammy's sensible and sober friend since the boys were about eleven - and explained where she was going, who she was with, and when she'd be back in case her son missed her and panicked. For good measure she found three or four chip-carrying colleagues and told them too - grateful for once that AA members were over-represented at this level of her profession. Then Gill grabbed Mitch as her chauffeur and slipped out unnoticed.

* * *

Julie Dodson stared blankly at her half-finished report. She lifted her fingers to type another sentence and found she couldn't remember what the last one was about. Since she'd sat down to start this night had fallen and the office had grown dark around her, save for the glowing computer screen. Julie considered getting up to turn on the light, but found no motivation to put the thought into action. With a thorough absence of guilt or shame she switched windows with a click and stared blankly at Facebook instead. Pat Dagleish was back from her Olivia Cruise. Janet Leonard had been stood up by an Amazon delivery. Sinéad Quinn had checked in from Sammy Murray's engagement party.

Julie waited for her brain to supply a reaction to any of this, but nothing was forthcoming. Exes and parties and people who narrated their whole lives online all crashed in a jumble against the same eerie feeling of disconnection she'd been overwhelmed by all evening. Well, at least that was better than the mortifying sobbing fit that had caught up with her about ten minutes after she'd gotten out of Regional Emergency Dispatch. Thank Christ nobody had been there to witness _that_. Shock was a bloody ridiculous thing.

_Right_, Julie thought, pulling herself back to lucidity. _Turn off the computer. Stand up. Go home. Sleep this off and deal with it in the morning._ She got as far as scooting her chair back, then sat still with her arms braced on her knees, staring at the floor. In that last moment had Helen Bartlett thought about taking Gill with her anyway with one more flick of the knife? Had it occurred to her? Would she have done it if they'd moved in sooner? If Janet Scott had said something different? If the damn wind had been blowing in a different direction or Gill had worn a different coloured shirt? And then would she have seen it happen on the cameras, or not known until Rachel Bailey came and told her that they'd heard - _Christ_.

She wasn't dealing with this well. She knew she wasn't. _Just go home, _she ordered herself again. _Because tomorrow you're going to have to talk to Gill about everything she went through, and if you haven't got a grip by then you're going to make a complete tit of yourself_. If she could just get her head straight before she had to face Gill then it would all be okay. The agonising what-ifs she could deal with on her own time. Sleep would help. And maybe a couple of hours on duty in the morning, putting the fear of God into some of the uniforms before she had deal with her best friend face to sodding perfect beautiful stupid face.

A little time was what she needed, that was all. But when had the universe ever been that kind? When Julie finally got her body to obey her brain's commands and rose to leave her office Gill Murray was standing in the doorway.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you all right?"

It wasn't how she'd intended to start, but "What the fuck are you doing in here in the dark on your own, Slap" had died on her lips when she caught sight of Julie's face. Her friend had evidently been burning the midnight oil - a bad habit that Gill knew she paired with being one of the world's worst morning people. Finding Julie working late was nothing new. Gill'd dragged her away from her desk for a drink or a gossip a thousand times. She'd never before felt like she was intruding. But now she hovered just outside the doorway of Julie's office, less sure of herself than she had been two minutes ago when she'd jumped out of Mitch's care and told him to push off home.

"You'll go square-eyed staring at that computer with no lights on," she said, trying for a note of levity.

"Hello, love," said Julie at last. "What are you doing here?"

She looked strange in the shadows, but her voice was warm and held no accusation. Emboldened, Gill walked across the room and clicked on the desk-lamp. Julie's face was less ethereal in the light, but Gill saw that she hadn't been wrong about the weariness and tightness in her expression. She didn't look herself.

"What did you want, Gill?" Julie asked her. Her voice was still kind and undemanding. But it wasn't the easy banter Gill wanted. It struck her with a sudden awful clarity what a trick her mind had played on her. What she'd wanted - what she'd _wanted_ - was normalcy. She'd wanted time travel. She'd wanted her and Julie to be her and Julie, like they had been last time they'd chatted. Because then she'd feel like none of today had really happened. But it had happened. And it had happened in Julie's world too. And the slump of Julie's shoulders and the tiredness in her eyes was proof that normalcy was not in stock anywhere tonight.

"I think," she said carefully, "what I really want right now actually, just at the minute... is a hug."

Gill had barely finished the sentence before she found herself wrapped in Julie's arms. She felt as much as she heard Julie's low chuckle:

"Ask and thou shalt receive, you soppy cow."

For a moment, Gill just enjoyed being held. She was a fighter - nobody could ever accuse her differently - but just for a minute it was nice to lower her guard here where nobody would take the piss. Julie was safe and strong.

"Thanks, Slap," Gill whispered.

Julie was silent, and Gill thought that perhaps she hadn't heard. When she finally answered, her voice sounded oddly thick.

"You're all right, love," she said.

"Yeah," said Gill firmly. "Yeah, I am all right. It's okay now." She felt somehow that Julie needed to hear that. She reckoned maybe Julie had needed the reassurance of contact, too.

What happened next was unplanned and unexpected.

Gill moved to hug Julie tighter just as Julie began to pull away. It was a clumsy misstep for two friends usually so entirely in sync. The result was that the kiss Julie had meant to press to Gill's cheek fell low; landed just at her jaw.

Gill gasped involuntarily.

They stood frozen. The sudden spike of shock had come and gone in an instant, but left Gill wrongfooted. A beat of silence passed. And another. Gill began to wonder why Julie wasn't pulling away. Then she realised that it was her own doing because she was clinging to Julie's shoulders and holding her tightly in place. Julie's breath was hot on her neck just where the belt had been. She'd been feeling the ghost of that strap all night. Had felt the bruise there even though every time she checked the mirror there was still no mark. She'd felt the cold touch of the knife against her skin, like a ghost. Now there was only heat.

"Gill?"

Abruptly, Gill realised she had a new answer to the question of what she wanted. A wicked one. She leaned in and returned the kiss, letting her lips brush against Julie's throat just by her ear.

"_Gill?!_"

Julie's gasp of surprise felt like a victory. Was it the gin? Trauma? Whatever. It felt good. Flirting with Julie always felt good - always left her ready to meet the rest of the day with a cocky grin. But now Gill found herself thinking how foolishly tame that was. They could go so much further in sticking it to the universe. Gill let her lips drift against Julie's throat once more to show it hadn't been an accident on her part before pulling back far enough to look her friend in the face. She could see Julie's confusion. She most certainly hadn't imagined that gasp though; there was something else in Julie's expression too. Something a lot less innocent than surprise. Julie Dodson was a woman at war with herself.

So Gill decided to joy the fray on the side of lust. She took the decision out of Julie's hands by pressing her own mouth firmly against the other woman's lips. This might be insanity. So what? Her own platitudes about Sammy and Orla earlier drifted back to her. Grab happiness while you can see it. That was right wasn't it? She tried to hold on to her train of thought, but found it skipping as her body surged with want. And she lost it entirely when Julie kissed her back.

In all the time they'd worked together Gill had found she and Julie had a natural pattern. It was just one of those chemistry things. They navigated each others leaps of intuiton, professional boundaries, and personal space instinctively. They were _never_ clumsy around each other. But they were clumsy again now. Julie's hands were in her hair. Julie's tongue was in her mouth. Desire for Julie was in every inch of her skin. She wanted more contact. She didn't know where to put her hands.

Desperate for something more, Gill tried to tug Julie's shirt loose from her trousers. The bloody stupid material seemed caught. Belt. Undo the belt, she thought. She fumbled for the buckle. Her hand slipped as her stumbling fingers failed to cooperate. Julie made a sound suspiciously like a whimper. Gill tried again. Her frustration rose as she fumbled a second time. This time she let her hand rake against the front of Julie's trousers.

"Stop it. Gill, stop! God. Stop. _Stop!_"

* * *

Julie forced herself back one step and then another until there was more than an arm's span of distance between their bodies. She tried to compose herself, caught her breath, waited for her vision to clear. She thought she was doing a reasonable job of it until she looked at Gill. Her dark hair was tousled. Her bare collarbones looked like sodding ivory or something against the deep green of her frock. Her eyes were dark in the low light, and her lips were still slightly parted - God those lips. That mouth. Julie drew a hand over her eyes to block out the sight as she tried again to pull herself together. (She hoped Gill wouldn't take offense.) What the hell was wrong with her? And what the hell was up with Gill? Gill had an ex-_husband. _Gill had tales about toy boys.

Julie tried to back track her thoughts to before the world had gone mad. Well, madder. She'd noticed something. She'd been about to say something. What was it she'd been about to say?... Gill had no coat. That was it. Party dress. No coat. No handbag.

"How did you get here?" Julie found herself asking as she tried to pick up the script of a scene that had gone wildly off the rails. Gill - or whatever strange doppelganger had taken Gill's place - answered readily enough.

"Mitch drove me. We came to fetch you to Sammy's party. I stopped by your flat," she explained, "but you weren't there. So I figured." Gill shrugged.

Julie couldn't help a teasing grin at that.

"So instead of living it up at your son's party you've been over half of Manchester looking for me? And you've had poor Mitch driving you around all over the place like-" Julie stopped short in horror when her ears caught up with her mouth. _Bloody hell, Dodson! _"Well where's Mitch now?" she asked hastily to cover her tracks. If Gill had noticed her gaffe she didn't respond to it.

"I told him he could head off because you'd give me a lift back."

Julie stared at her for a moment in disbelief.

"And do you really think he'll actually go anywhere before he's seen you safely in somebody else's care? The poor sod's out there pacing the carpark in the dark."

Julie thought about this with a mounting sense of horror. They were all antsy over Gill. Everyone. What if Ian Mitchell had wondered what was keeping her? What if he'd gotten impatient? What if he'd come in to check? The door wasn't even shut, for God's sake!

Julie clamped down on that line of thought before she gave herself a heart attack.

"What do you want to do now, Gill? Do you want me to drive you home?"

Julie half expected Gill to demur - to say she'd have Mitch take her afterall - but she didn't.

"I want you to drive to mine," she said. "I want you to wish my Sammy all the best. I want you to come to my party."

_Well, you can't very well say no after the stunt you just pulled, Jules._ Christ, how would she ever fix this?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** My sincerest apologies for the unexpected delay in updating this. RL rudely interrupted. Thank you for the reviews, and thank you especially to Julie Ann Pope for the encouragement. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story, and I'll try to keep the rest of the updates much more timely.

* * *

Sure enough, Julie had been right. When they stepped out into the carpark Mitch was still there. The sodium glow from the street lights drained all the colour from the sporty red car he drove, and it looked eerily hearse-like, Julie thought, parked alone in the middle of the yard. Mitch himself was leaning against the driver's door. His habitual suit and tie were doing nothing to make the tableau less sombre.

Julie cast a hasty look at Gill. Was there anything in their appearance to tip Mitch off as to what they'd just been doing? But Gill just looked like Gill. It was only Julie's own guilt and confusion that felt strange. And anyway, who'd even be looking out for something like that between them? She'd challenge Sherlock Holmes – the real one, not Bailey – to catch on to what had happened. Who, looking at the pair of them, could ever imagine Gill as she had been ten minutes ago, clothes askew and hair tussled from Julie's hands? _Nope. Never going to be shot of_ that _image. Christ._

Julie's own car was parked to the other side of the entrance. Rather than call out, she gave Mitch a jaunty thumbs up just as she might do if this were any normal evening. He nodded and climbed back into the driver's seat. He was evidently happy to leave Gill in Julie's care and to slip silently back into whatever his own life was outside of MIT. She briefly wondered if he'd have trouble dealing with things tonight. She hardly knew him at all, but he and Gill went way back, didn't they? She wished now that her treacherous imagination hadn't just linked the man with hearses and funerals.

When they got to her car, Julie opened the passenger door for Gill. She tried to make it look as casual as possible as she leaned into the car first and threw her briefcase onto the back seat. _See. Nobody there._ She hesitated a moment after Gill had slid into her seat. In the end, she left the passenger door wide open while she headed around to her own side, leaving Gill to pull it closed when she was ready. It lacked subtlety, but fuck it – there was no way was Julie was going to be the one to shut her into a darkened car on her own right now.

Gill said nothing and simply waited until Julie was in to slam the door, so she reckoned she'd gotten away with it.

"All buckled up?" Julie asked automatically as she started the car.

She froze in horror when she realised what she'd just said. "Gill, I didn't mean... I'm so sorry. I meant the seatbelt. God, I'm such an idiot." She looked up slowly, terrified of seeing shock or fear on her friend's face.

"You're ridiculous," said Gill and laughed properly for the first time that night.

The drove mostly in silence. With every turn that brought them closer to Gill's place a little more reality seemed to seep back in. Gill was in a strange mood, Julie acknowledged. They both were, really, but Gill was the one who had just escaped death so it was on Julie to be the strong one here.

Despite her earlier craving for sleep and solitude she wouldn't be anywhere else just this minute. It was doing wonders for her to have Gill within arm's reach where she felt confident she could strangle any bastard who came near her. She'd work out how to deal with everything herself later when she had some space and time to think. For now she'd try for normalcy. That was probably what Gill needed.

"Are you sure you'll still have a house when we get back there, Gill?" she asked lightly.

"It's all right," said Gill. "Dave's supervising."

Julie thought about that for a second. "Are you sure you'll still have a house when we get back there, Gill?" she repeated.

Gill sniffed regally. "I'll have you know my teenage son and his drunken delinquent friends are very responsible, actually."

"I'm sure."

They pulled up outside the house. It looked as though it were still fully intact, at least from the front. Julie felt the comfortable atmosphere they'd tentatively re-established evaporate as they stepped out of the car. Now that she'd gotten Gill home she found herself wondering whether she ought to bring up what had happened earlier. Should she apologise or something to clear the air before heading off, or would Gill be happier to pretend it hadn't happened?

"I'll just say congrats to Sammy and then I'll head off," she began.

But Gill was already striding towards the door gesturing for Julie to follow her and probably didn't hear.

* * *

The party was still in full swing. Gill suspected the volume was a little higher than it had been when she'd left, but it looked as though everyone was still vertical. The stereo was playing an old CD that Gill thought she recognised from when the boys were in about Year Nine. That probably meant her gang of teenagers had arrived at the part of the night where they had the audacity, at nineteen, to begin to feel nostalgic.

She looked behind her hastily to make sure that Julie was still with her. Reassured to see that she was, she caught her hand and led her back to the kitchen to the spot where she'd first noticed her absence. Dave was gone. He'd obviously found somebody else to torment once Mitch had left, thank goodness. But they'd caught young Ben red-handed in the middle of washing up a tray of used wine glasses.

"Oy!" Gill admonished. "Stop that at once! You're a disgrace! Is Sammy about? I've brought him another guest."

Ben, as usual, just smiled shyly at her teasing. Leaving the washing he carefully dried his hands on a tea towel, which he then folded. (Gill turned to Julie to share a smile of amusement, and was happy when Julie smiled back.) Only then did Ben cross the kitchen and pull wide the door to the utility room, revealing Sammy and Orla wrapped up in each other's arms.

"Murray, sorry to interrupt mate. Your mum wants you," said Ben.

It ought to have been embarrassing. But right then, Gill felt too happy to care. She was amused by Sammy's friend's quiet coup in getting the last laugh, happy at the sound of Julie laughing behind her, thrilled that her son was too in love to let tonight to be about anything but him and Orla. There was something incredibly reassuring about the unstudied selfishness of teenagers.

Sammy's initial confusion lasted about two seconds before he caught sight of Julie. He barely acknowledged his mother – had thankfully not noticed that she'd ever left – as he hurried past her to sweep her friend in to a bear hug .

"Julieeeee!"

Gill was pretty sure only a small part of the enthusiasm was down to cider and shots. They'd always got on well, those two. Whenever she'd dragged Sammy along to a police do, or when he'd gotten to old for her to send him off to play or squabble with Janet's girls at dinner parties, she'd often found him at the end of the evening talking Julie's ear off about bands or football. Or even about police work. (Come to think of it, that should have raised some alarms about his career plans, probably.)

At first – and she was embarrassed to admit this now – she'd thought he was imposing on Julie. Way back, before she'd understood Julie's vibe, she'd thought maybe she just didn't know how to deal with kids or how to politely shut them up. Gill knew she'd done them both an injustice there. Julie and Sammy had simply recognised something in each other, she thought. Some natural gregarious kinship. Julie was the kind of person who had no problem inviting herself over and making you a cup of tea in your own kitchen when she knew that was what you needed. And since he'd been little Sammy had always seemed to know the name, hobbies and personal troubles of everyone from his hairdresser to the regular pizza delivery bloke. They were people who cared about people, and they got on like a house on fire. Right now, along with everything else, that made Gill very happy too. To her embarrassment she felt a pricking of tears, and hastily turned to chat to Orla instead.

They gossiped about the party and about their plans. Julie asked Sammy about his joining the force, and the conversation stayed light and easy. Gill found herself relaxing, almost. At least until she drifted back into the sound of Sammy's voice and realised Julie was making sounds about leaving. The idea of Julie going brought Gill's sense of anchorlessness from earlier this evening charging back. She was watching from inside a bubble. Panic started to build up at the back of her throat. She looked around her, spotted Ben playing waiter again, and frantically gestured at him. He caught her drift – smart chap that one – and made his way over to offer Julie a glass of wine.

"Oh. No thanks, love," said Julie. "I'm driving."

"No she's not," Gill said. "She's staying the night." She took the wine glass and thrust it into Julie's hand. Julie looked as thought she were about to protest, but before she could Gill pressed her point. "Come on. I'll show you where you're sleeping."

None of the teenagers put any pass on them as she led Julie to the stairs. Why would they? Nobody gave them so much as a second look. Gill felt a moment of surrealness at that. Maybe they were right not to look. Maybe she would just lead Julie to the spare room and make her promise not to leave. Maybe they'd just have a drink together and then she'd go to her own room and go to sleep and wake up feeling like herself again.

They mounted the landing. She paused and looked up at Julie. Julie met her gaze frankly. She looked caring and hesitant. She was tall and familiar and beautiful.

Gill turned and led the way to her own bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

The room to which Gill led her was elegant, understated, and quite definitely not the guest bedroom. Gill's day clothes were tossed haphazardly across a chair by the wardrobe. Other small signs of the room's occupancy were clear even without a detective's training. Julie walked in at Gill's ushering, but found herself skirting close to the wall, somehow not quite willing to step fully into the scene laid out before her. With a sweeping gaze she automatically took in the shopping bags in the corner. One generic, one Vodafone red. Beside it on that little table – yes – a brand new mobile was already charging. How typically Gill. This was Gill's bedroom, she knew. Everything about it was typically Gill. A half-drunk glass of water on the bedside locker even bore the mark of her lipstick.

Julie remembered the wine in her own hand. She laid the glass down solidly on the window-sill.

"I don't want a drink, love," she said. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but-"

"Then allow me to be very clear on this," said Gill, cutting her off before Julie had even decided quite what to say next. "I'm asking you to stay. Stay here. With me. Tonight."

Gill was looking at her with that defiant thrust of her chin. Julie had once calculated that that look on its own had been enough to convince her to do at least four of the ten rashest things she'd ever done in her life.

She wanted desperately to give in this time, too. To take Gill right now and show her exactly how good it could be to act on that latent chemistry they'd always had between them. Instead she asked the question she knew needed to be asked: "Why?"

Gill shrugged.

"Because I want you. Because, _because _I want you to stay and..." for the first time that night Gill seemed to struggle for words, though her tone was still adamant. "I don't want to talk, I want to continue what we started. I want to end this – this stupid fucked-up hell of a day with somebody I love, feeling safe and alive – like I own my own body, like I'm _in_ my own body." She was gesticulating with evident frustration. "That's all I've got right now. Sorry, I'm not making sense. Sorry."

"It's all right, Gill. You're allowed to be in a state right now. You could have been seriously hurt today. You could have..."

Julie found she couldn't finish the sentence. The silence hung heavily between them for a moment as they each hunted for what to say next. Gill got there first.

"Look," she said. "While I was in that car I kept thinking 'Sammy will have noticed; he'll have to have noticed by now'. And I know the procedures, so I'm telling myself somebody must be on this. They must know I'm missing, they'll have found where I am, – even though I'm only half believing it myself."

"Oh, Gill." The space between them as they stood six feet apart in Gill's dimly-lit room suddenly felt like a hundred miles again, but Julie forced herself to stay put and let Gill finish.

"I'm thinking – there's somebody watching all this. And, right, somewhere after York I decided that it was you. That you were the incident commander. Because then it'd be all right. I was safe then really. Because when have we ever not come out on top when we work together, eh?"

Julie smiled. "We're quite a team," she agreed. The worst of the tension seemed to have drained from the room. She leaned back against the window-sill behind her and willed herself to believe that everything was on its way back to normal, though Gill made no move to match her more relaxed attitude.

"We're bloody brilliant. Police superheroes," Gill emphasised.

"Like Cagney and Lacey?" Julie offered. "I'm Sharon Gless in this equation, of course."

"Give over, you're Tyne Daly."

Julie tried for a look of mock outrage. "I think we need a better comparison."

"Like what?"

"Dunno. Thelma and Louise? Two gorgeous A-listers sticking it to the world and taking no prisoners..." Julie's train of thought derailed as she more scenes from the film flashed across her mind. "Except not the ending where they drive off the edge of – Shit!"

That earned her a look of complete exasperation.

"That's the _third _time you've done that this evening," said Gill. "Honestly, you're about as sensitive as Nick Farage tonight – what's up with you?"

Now it was Julie's turn to struggle to find the right words.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I really am. I can't stop thinking about it. For two hours today I thought I was going to watch you die. I'm a mess," she confessed. "And I think I'd better be going now."

"Yeah," said Gill. "Okay. You could do that. Absolutely. But... don't. Julie, please stay?"

Later Julie would decide it was the 'please' that had undone her.

She turned away from Gill for a moment so she wouldn't have to look her in the eye. Outside the window the street was dark and still, a view of terraced houses barred by the slats of the bedroom blinds. It offered no answers. Could she do this? Could she afford _not _to? Julie gathered herself and turned back towards Gill, finally stepping inside the unmarked perimeter of the room she'd been so carefully maintaining.

"Is this really what you need tonight?" she asked.

Gill nodded.

Resolute now, Julie moved nearer. Gill met her gaze with that stubborn stare and never broke eye contact even when Julie caught her hips and pulled her close. She waited a beat to see how Gill's body would react to the sustained proximity. Honestly, she more than half expected her to pull back instinctively at the last moment, but she didn't. Instead Gill simply held her gaze. Then her lips quirked up in a challenging half smile.

And then Julie knew that she wasn't going to stop. She wasn't leaving tonight no matter how chivalrous her intentions had been five minutes ago. It was too unfair; the stuff of too many fantasies. She lifted her hands to the edges of the cardigan that rested on Gill's shoulders, brushing it down her arms to reveal warm pale skin. There'd been a moment today, a flash of light on the windscreen that she had been sure was the slash of a knife. Briefly but horrifically she'd been certain Gill was gone. Now she could feel her warmth and catch the quickening flutter of her breath.

For the second time that night, Julie dropped a soft kiss against Gill's skin. This time she was slow and deliberate. Each kiss along her neck and shoulder was firmly placed to try to tell her wordlessly all the things she'd long decided she would never say. _You're beautiful. You're perfect._

Gill's breathing became uneven beneath her lips. Her hands tugged at Julie's hair and and Julie surrendered obediently as Gill pulled her into a fierce kiss. All of the passion from earlier in the evening came swooping back. Julie found herself stumbling backwards under the onslaught of Gill's kisses until her shoulders hit the wall. The extra support behind her allowed her to touch Gill more freely without fear of their toppling. She cupped her cheek, relishing the texture of soft skin and the brush of hair against the back of her hand. Their mouths slid against each other in a random pattern of light brushes and deep kisses. The touch of Gill's tongue against her own was exquisite.

Pulling back at last, Julie fought to steady her breath. She felt Gill's hands at her belt and went to help her, but Gill swatted her hands away and gave one firm shake of her head. There was a look of deep concentration on her face, half-shadowed by her tussled hair, as she undid the buckle at Julie's waist and drew the belt free loop by loop. She paused and seemed to consider it in her hands for a moment before letting it drop to the floor. When she looked back up she was smiling that challenging smile again. Her eyes were dark with lust, her cheeks were flushed and Julie knew the place could burn down around their ears and she still wouldn't leave now.

Fuck chivalry.

With the wall for leverage she caught Gill by the waist and flipped their positions so that Gill was now pressed beneath her, panting, dishevelled, and more beautiful than anything Julie had ever seen in her life.


	5. Chapter 4b

**A/N: **So, to my considerable embarrassment I _just _realised that I only posted half of chapter four last night (leaving everyone in the lurch rather). So this is the rest of chapter four. I'll go back and merge the two chapters after the next update, but for now I thought I'd post it as its own update/alert to save confusion. Sorry about that spectacular bit of incompetence. Here's Gill's POV. (NSFW.)

* * *

Gill felt flooded with energy. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or sob. Or cheer in triumph, maybe. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Julie's neck and pulled her down into another searing kiss. Had sex _ever_ been like this before? She was having trouble keeping a coherent line of thought as adrenaline coursed through her body. Right now _not_ thinking felt very, very good. The wall was cool against the open back of her dress. Julie's hands made her body ache with heat as they brushed over her hips. She kicked off her shoes to help her balance. Julie quickly followed suit, but even without her high heels she held a solid height advantage. Gill had always found Julie's rangy build striking. Now, holding her pinned in place against her own bedroom wall, Julie's long limbs were nothing short of sexy.

Gill leaned up to nuzzle the soft skin of Julie's jaw before letting her open mouth drift lower to taste the exposed skin at her open collar. A scrap of memory surfaced amid her swirling thoughts. She remembered the first time she'd thought about Julie and sex in the same context. It was a familiar memory. There'd been a woman – Gill was never able to remember anything more about her – at a wedding they'd both been to not long after Gill and Julie had first met. They'd chatted together, all of them placed at the same table. Julie and the other woman had clearly liked each other. They'd both come without dates. Gill could still remember the dawning realisation that Julie was going to take this woman home, and her own guilt at how uncomfortable that had made her. She'd already known in an abstract sort of way that Julie was gay. (It was one of the first things she'd been told about Julie before she'd even met her.) Seeing her pick up another woman and imagining what they might do together had been different, though. For a long time it had flustered Gill to remember just how quickly she'd excused herself to leave the two of them alone.

She undid another button of Julie's shirt and licked the newly exposed flesh. Julie's soft gasp of pleasure sent a thrill of desire through her own body.

Julie must have been younger back then, she supposed. They both must. But she couldn't imagine her any different – you never did until you saw pictures. Julie was Julie – a woman – an amazon – and currently hers. Tonight she was the one Julie would be taking to bed. The thought brought her only pleasure and a new rush of need.

Gill challenged herself to take her time in unbuttoning the striped shirt Julie wore, now finally untucked from that damn belt. Three buttons left. Two. One. Julie's hands stilled in their strokes along Gill's sides. The only movement between them was Gill's fingers, slowly parting the edges of the shirt to expose her lover's skin. She slipped her hands beneath the loose silk and let her fingertips brush over Julie's ribs and down to her waist with the lightest of touches. Julie was trembling. Tearing her gaze away from the swell of Julie's breasts over the lace of her bra, Gill looked up and saw that her eyes had fluttered shut.

Suddenly Gill was uncertain. She felt so ready to feel, taste and touch Julie everywhere that she didn't know where to start. She pulled back. Julie opened her eyes and looked confused by the loss of contact.

"Sorry," Gill said quickly.

"Do you want to stop?" Julie's voice was uncharacteristically hoarse.

"No! God, _no!_ I just – you're just going to need to take the lead on this for a minute. Reckon you can get us to the bed in one piece?"

Julie smiled her catlike smile, her hooded eyes dark. "Certainly, ma'am."

As Julie stepped away from her Gill felt instantly bereft, though they never fully lost contact. Julie trailed her fingers down Gills arms from shoulder to elbow to wrist making her shiver. She laced their hands together and drew her close again. Gill let her arms be guided back around Julie's neck as she moved away from the wall. With Gill's arms draped over her shoulders Julie's hands were free to slide across her back to the side zip of her dress, tugging it open.

"Suave," Gill murmured earning her a trail of soft kisses against her inner arm. Julie's hand slipped inside her dress. It was obscene how Julie could short-circuit her brain with a single touch tonight. Enough was enough. Her shove caught Julie off-guard and off-balance as she pushed her back onto the bed. Gill landed on top of her in a tumble of limbs.

"Should have known you couldn't be trusted."

"Stop talking and kiss me."

They settled side by side on the bed. Gill returned her hands to Julie's exposed skin. The racing energy in her body had settled a little into something more bearable, though still potent. Desire pulsed through her body as Julie's hot mouth covered the top of her breasts with wet kisses. The wrap top of her dress was easy enough to wriggle loose from with the zip undone. She pulled her hands away from Julie's body just long enough to slip free of the thin strap on one side. Her right arm was trapped beneath them, but there was no time to think of that as Julie's kisses dipped lower over her exposed breast. A touch of Julie's tongue to her nipple and Gill lost her breath again.

She bucked her hips, desperate for more contact. The bloody dress was in the way. She knew that she loved this dress, but couldn't fathom why that could be when right now its tight fit kept her from pulling Julie hard against her. God, why were they both still wearing so many clothes?

All right. New agenda. Top priority, get rid of this fucking dress. Second priority, strip Julie Dodson of every item of clothing she was wearing. Now that she had Julie here with her she wanted to touch her everywhere. Wanted to see her naked. Wanted to taste her. Anything. Everything.

Julie, however, had plans of her own.

With a teasing hand she traced a path down Gill's side to the hem of her dress. "_Please_," Gill began. She got no further. Deft fingers rucked her skirt up until there was room for Julie to slip a hand between her legs.

Gill met Julie's eyes watching her intently. She didn't know what it was that Julie was watching for. There was a tenderness in her expression at odds with the heat between them as her touch slid higher, past the tops of Gills stockings. But Gill couldn't puzzle it out because all her attention was focussed on that hand. Desperate for contact, she pressed forward. That seemed to satisfy Julie. She gave a decisive nod, then kissed her once more as her fingers finally brushed against the thin cloth of Gill's underwear.

Gill might have cried out if she could have drawn the breath for it. The discomfort of the dress was forgotten along with everything else apart from the touch of Julie's fingers, firm and sure against her. The feeling intensified as Julie slipped her hand inside to touch her directly. She couldn't remember ever having felt this good. Granted, she wasn't quite thinking straight tonight, but she knew without doubt that she would want to do this again. Whatever she wanted, Julie's touch seemed to be there first. Or maybe it was Julie who was leading her. She couldn't tell and she didn't care. She buried her face in Julie's hair.

"That feels incredible," she managed.

"You're incredible,"came Julie's instant reply, a low whisper against her ear. "You're beautiful. You're perfect. You're perfect. You're perfect."

Her soft words and the wicked things her fingers were doing were too much. Gill came hard. As the pleasure swept through her she felt it down to her toes – to her fingernails where they dug into Julie's shoulders. She vaguely feared that she'd bitten Julie's neck as she shuddered against her.

And then after the release came a rush of contentment. A wave of gratitude flooded through her for Julie. Wonderful Julie. She pulled her as close as she could, wrapping her arms about her lean, warm body.

Gill felt Julie's hand slip from between her legs. Then she was caught in a tight hug.

"It's all right," Julie was murmuring now. "It's all right. I've got you."

Gill thought she should pull away. She wanted to explain that she didn't need comforting, that she was fine actually. And she would, in just a second. She'd live up to her promise to herself and get Julie out of her clothes. She'd make her scream, and beg too. In a minute. Just another minute...

* * *

Gill slept lightly, in that odd haze between proper rest and wakefulness. Her dreams were a muddled confusion of belt buckles and of words whispered in her ears. She tossed from crushing nightmares to strange, soft oases of safety. The brief reprieves robbed the dreams of their terror just as they threatened to become unbearable. The fear resurfaced again whenever the gentler dreams began to lull her into a deeper sleep.

When she finally woke she was tucked safely beneath her duvet. Julie was gone.


End file.
